


The Appropriate Day

by DefineNormal



Category: Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears (2020), Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Gen, a proper eulogy, spoilers for crypt of tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefineNormal/pseuds/DefineNormal
Summary: Post Crypt of Tears. Spoilers for the movie. “Pinch me,” Jack whispers against the back of her head. Her hair sticks to her lips, but he breathes deeply, marking this memory with the scent of the desert and her french perfume.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 143





	The Appropriate Day

“Pinch me,” Jack whispers against the back of her head. Her hair sticks to her lips, but he breathes deeply, marking this memory with the scent of the desert and her french perfume. 

Without pause or question, Phryne reaches blindly but accurately behind her and pinches at the skin of his hip halfheartedly.

“Notadream,” she mumbles into the pillow and a tingle of pride warms his chest. She is utterly worn out, soft and loose in his arms, drawing her fingertips over the forearm curled across her middle.

He is bone-deep tired as well, and sore from hours on camel-back and fighting curses and sleeping on the ground. His skin burns from the sun and the sand and his eyes feel gritty from lack of sleep. 

He has never ever been happier.

His lips brush the back of her head again, then drop to her shoulder. Now that he is free to kiss her at will, he cannot see any reason to stop himself from indulging. All her influence, he’s sure. 

Everything has happened so fast, it seems. Their slow-simmer romance turning to ice and then to fire over -could it be?- a matter of days. It’s as though his mind is still struggling to catch up to the fact that she’s alive and whole, not to mention naked in his arms. 

He thinks of the creased paper in his bags, folded around a photo of her. He thinks of the water-marked, crumpled newspaper clipping with her smiling face, announcing her gruesome death. He thinks of the regret, cold and hard, lodged in his throat for 6 long weeks. Regret that was consumed by relieved anger and, rising from those ashes, seething jealousy when she stood cavalierly before him and apologized for wasting his time. He thinks of all the ways he’s told her he nearly lost her, and in the process nearly lost any opportunity he had ever been given to-- 

_ What did it say? _

_ What did what say? _

_ My eulogy. _

In the gentle silence of the desert, the dim glow of a lantern, and Phryne safe in his arms- Jack thinks there has never been a more appropriate day.

“To Phryne--” he murmurs.

“Ungh?” she shifts in his arms, turning around to bury her face against his neck. She is warm and sleepy and, he thinks, probably not listening to him in the slightest.

“The Honourable Miss Fisher. What can one say? We all know Phryne Fisher was daring. Relentless. Careless.” He feels her stiffen. He has her attention now. “Fearless. She believed in justice with every fiber of her being and it is fitting that this day should come while she was trying, as always, to help someone in need.”

Her intake of breath is sharp and Jack knows she is poised to speak. So he continues. It’s unnecessary to have the paper before him - he’s read it so many times it is committed to memory. 

A vow, of sorts.

“Those of us lucky to know Phryne Fisher well knew she drove too fast, laughed too easily, danced too often, and always (always) championed the underdog. She was fashionable, irascible and could always be counted on for the finest whiskey.”

She nods and bumps his chin with her head, an affectionate kitten in his arms. 

“I’m sure there isn’t a person seated here today who hasn’t been the recipient of Phryne’s kindness, generosity and wit. A person who hasn’t been touched in some way by her genuine warmth. To know Phryne was to experience the storm in all its glory. Wild and wicked, drenching and terrible and the most exhilarating experience.

There isn’t a person here who hasn’t lost someone they loved, very much, in losing Phryne Fisher.

One lifetime was never enough for Phryne to change the world. For those of us lucky enough to know her, however, she has changed the world forever.

The honourable Miss Fisher. What can one say but...

Goodbye.”

They take simultaneous shuddering breaths and once again he can feel her gather herself to speak. Instead he draws a finger under her chin and tilts her head upwards, searching for the glint of her eyes in the shadowy light.

_ I’m done with you.  _ As if he could ever be. As if he ever  _ wanted _ to be. 

He kisses her. It is something of a farewell - to missed opportunities and lost chances. It is I love you - for now and for always, in whatever capacity I can. It is I’m sorry - for doubt and suspicion. It is I forgive you - for being careless when I need you to be careful. It is...

“Hello, Miss Fisher.” 

“Hello, Detective Inspector Robinson.”

It is welcome home.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> 1) I screen capped that damn paper and did the best I could using what I could see which was "To Phryne....the honourable...can one say....Fisher was daring"   
> 2) There were two camels when they went to sleep but they rode doubles the next day. Did they scare off one camel? Or did Phryne shoo the other one away so Jack was forced to ride behind her? I MEAN REALLY.  
> 3) It's canon that Phryne and Jack had sex. I am...staggered. IT HAPPENED. WE MADE IT GUYS. YAY FOR US.   
> 4) Hello all the fandom people I don't know. Write me more stories mmmkay?


End file.
